


J'adore

by VileVenom



Series: Hobbit Ficlets [5]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dwori - Freeform, Kink Meme, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VileVenom/pseuds/VileVenom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme prompt fill.</p><p>Prompt:<br/>Because of his appearance, people think Dwalin is an uncultured lunk. But in fact he's a big fan of art, and though he himself is just a failed art student with a tattoo shop, he goes to galleries and exhibitions all the time.</p><p>Lately he's been really into this new artist, whose abstract images in vibrant colors and bold brush strokes with amazing unexplained names like "Smaug's Lair" really get under Dwalin's skin. When he learns that the very secretive and camera shy artist is going to be present at an exhibition of his artwork, Dwalin just has to go and meet the man.</p><p>Imagine his surprise when the artist that is introduced to the crowd is in fact this shy looking boy who keeps having to be reminded to talk louder and to hold the microphone closer to his mouth during the Q&A.</p>
            </blockquote>





	J'adore

**Author's Note:**

> Allow me to apologize first and foremost for the rushed feeling of this fic, and any horrible OOCness I may have taken the liberty of slathering over Dwalin and Ori.  
> I tried to write them, honest, I did!

Dwalin only jerked the slightest bit when the bell over the front door of his shop jingled, his mind having been otherwise occupied reading over a review on a rather fetching new piece by his current favorite artist. He glanced up, not bothering to withhold a groan at finding his best friends nephews plundering his magazine stack in the reception area.

“What d’you two want, now?” Dwalin grumped, slapping his magazine shut to half heartedly glare at the two boys.

“Uncle’s starting to sway on letting us get tattos,” Kili, the younger of the brothers, chirped happily, making an excited ‘o’ face at one of the new magazines on the table.

“So, we’re here to get inspiration!” Fili, the elder of the two, added, flopping down into one of the soft leather chairs while kicking his feet up onto the table.

“You two sure ye ain’t just here because Thorin tossed ye out onto yer hides hopin’ ye’d finally go find jobs?” Dwalin scoffed, resting his chin in the palm of his hand while he watched the two ransack his shop.

Kili at least had the sense to look embarrassed. “Well,” he began, quickly getting cut off by his brother.

“You know, if you hired us, it’d be helping everyone in the long run,” Fili jumped in, smirking at Dwalin.

Dwalin sighed heavily, dipping his head slightly to run his fingers over his tattoed skull, knowing the boy spoke the truth, but also knowing that to employ the two would be invoking a great and powerful wrath upon his livelihood. But, his tattoo shop had lost its receptionist to a newer shop in a mall, and his piercing apprentice had just quit to move to New Mexico, of all places. He was truly understaffed, and had been working virtually non-stop for the past two weeks, and it was slowly beginning to wear him out. However, Thorin’s boys were a handful. Not to mention, nosy, loud, rambunctious, and general nuisances.

“And how do I know if I hired ye, ye wouldn’t ravage my poor shop, and try to give yerselves shoddy tattoos while I was away?” he huffed, glaring across the shop at the two hopeful faces staring at him.

“We’d be the best employees, ever!” Kili pleaded, jumping over the low table in the reception area and rushing to take up a kneeling position next to Dwalin, staring up at him pleadingly.

“Plus, you know you could always go to Thorin if we messed anything up too bad,” Fili added, moving across the shop to lean against the counter, smirking at Dwalin. “C’mon. We know you need people, you know you need people, we’re people who need jobs. It’s perfect.”

Dwalin pinched the bridge of his nose, already knowing the next words out of his mouth he would so greatly regret. “All right. Fine. I’ll hire ye both,” he muttered, to the great uproar of happy cheering from the boys, “But mark my words, boys! You two do anything to muck my business up, and I’ll tan both yer hides!”

The two stood next to each other at Dwalin’s words, mirroring each other as they made criss-cross motions over their chests.

“Cross our hearts-“

“-And hope to die!”

The heavily tattooed shop owner simply grunted at the two, before opening his magazine back up to continue reading about ‘Mr. Rison’, and how his latest painting was living well past expectations.

~

“MISTER DWALIN!”

“God damnit, Kili, if ye call me that one more time, I’ll beat you over the head with yer broom.”

Kili grinned widely at Dwalin as he leaned against said broom in the doorway to the tiny back room Dwalin sometimes managed to call his office. “Sorry,” he hummed, not in the least bit apologetic, “Just wanted to let you know that your two o’clock cancelled. A lovely case of cold feet, it would seem.”

The shop owner sighed while shrugging a little. “Can’t be helped,” he stated simply, his gaze shifting back to his laptop screen, where he was browsing through the admittedly tiny catalog of paintings by Mr.Rison. He gruted quietly when Kili skirted around behind him to see what he was looking at.

“Oooo!” the brunette whistled, leaning his hip against the side of the small desk, “Those paintings are nice! Little bit abstract, but pretty.”

Dwalin snorted at Kili’s assessment of the works on the screen, glancing at the boy out of the corner of his eye. “It’s called surrealism,” he supplied, clicking to enlarge a particularly stunning piece, “And I would say with a dash of postmodernism.”

“Huh,” Kili stated bluntly, the explanation obviously flying straight over his head. “Well, regardless about their post-surreal-modernism, they’re nice. You going to get one for the shop?”

“I was thinking about it.”

~

“Whatcha readin’?”

Dwalin groaned and just barely managed to resist the urge to thump his head against the soft wood of the front counter as Fili leaned against the back of his chair to look at his magazine over his shoulder.

“That Rison guy again?” the blonde asked, reaching past his boss to flip the page, “You certainly have a thing for him, don’t you?”

“How can I have a thing for a man that’s never shown his face to the public?” Dwalin grumped, slapping Fili’s hands away from his magazine.

“Well,” the blonde said, fussing a bit when his hands were knocked away, “You certainly read everything you possibly can about him and his work. Plus, y’know, you have a nice big ‘I think you’re pretty fucking rad’ hanging on the shop wall.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the painting that had found a home on the shop wall a few weeks back.

Dwalin scowled at Fili, and promptly threw a wadded up piece of paper at the blonde’s head. “Shut up and get back t’work!”

At least the brothers didn’t know about the three other smaller pieces he had hanging up at home.

~

Dwalin sighed in utter contentment as he leaned back in the cushy chair at the reception desk, glad for the now rare silence that resounded through the shop. The boys were both off for the day, and since it was a Sunday with little to nothing booked, there was little he had to worry about. He finally looked up when the bell over the shop door jingled. He half expected it to be the boys, there to bug him on their day off, but instead found a rather timid looking red headed man standing sheepishly in the doorway.

“Welcome to Erebor Ink,” Dwalin said pleasantly, shooting the man what he hoped was a welcoming smile. More than once he’d been told it looked more like he was grimacing at people.

“Hello,” the man said with a tiny wave, returning the smile with a timid one of his own. The man shuffled his feet a little, looking either as if he’d walked into the wrong shop by accident, or he had swallowed a bug.

“There anything I can help ye with?” Dwalin prompted, resting his forearms on the front desk.

“Well, yes, actually,” the man began, murmuring and quiet. Dwalin gestured for him to come closer, and the man shuffled a few feet further into the store. “I was hoping, if you wouldn’t mind, I’m needing a little help. You see, I’m a, well, something of an artist, and the piece I’m working on, I needed inspiration? References, really. Uhm, that probably didn’t make sense. What I mean to say is, is that I was hoping I could sketch a few things in your shop? Tattoo guns, perhaps some of your general tattoo designs, work benches, uhm. Things like that.”

The shop owner cocked his head to the side a little, regarding the odd man before him, before shrugging a little. “Fill yer boots,” he said, waving his arm out towards the work stations behind him. “Just don’t touch anything, and ye should be fine.”

The man lit up at the permission he was given, clutching excitedly at the satchel Dwalin hadn’t noticed until then was slung over his shoulder. “Thank you,” the man exclaimed happily, pulling a sketchbook from his bag, and shuffling forward, still obviously nervous. “You would not believe the amount of shops that have told me no.”

Dwalin chuckled, sliding his chair a bit further to the side so the man could get past him and into the work area. “Nah, actually. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. Most shops ‘round here are full of artists, sure, but not the kind that people think. Ye going to school or something? Need this for a project?”

“Oh,” the man said distractedly as he hunkered down next to an old barber chair Dwalin had set up for piercing, “No. I’m working on a commission of sorts, actually. I’m not actually selling the painting to anyone, of course. I wouldn’t dream of selling a piece I was planning on putting other peoples work in!” The man glanced up in minor alarm, staring at Dwalin intently.

“You get kicked out of another shop for that one?”

The man sighed and nodded, turning back to his sketchbook. “One shop thought I was from a rival shop, hoping to copy styles and ideas. Ridiculous, really. You can’t just steal someone else’s art style or ideas. They always come out wonky if you try.” The man scoffed quietly, pencil softly scratching across his sketchbook paper.

Dwalin nodded, leaning back in his chair a little, watching the odd man sketch away. After a solid ten minutes of silence, he finally piped up again. “The name’s Dwalin, by the way. I own the shop.”

The man jerked his head up, suddenly looking alarmed. “Oh, goodness. Right, yes. My name is Ori. Sorry, that was rude of me. My apologies.”

Dwalin chuckled, waving the man off. “S’fine. Ye were distracted. But, just t’let ye know, I have a client in at three, so I’ll be needing ye to skedaddle when they show up.”

Ori smiled pleasantly at the other, nodding a little. “I should have plenty by then. Thank you.”

Finally, two forty-five rolled around, and Ori snapped his sketchbook shut, letting out a satisfied sigh, directing a charming smile at Dwalin when the shop owner turned at the sound.

“Thank you, again,” Ori hummed, slipping his sketchbook back into his bag and he stood up. He shook Dwalin’s hand happily, the two having spent the better part of the last few hours chatting away while the young artist sketched.

“T’was my pleasure,” Dwalin chuckled, patting the other’s shoulder, before releasing him.

Ori looked like he wanted to linger, slowly edging around the reception area, looking over the magazines on the table, and the framed examples of previous tattoo work on the walls. Dwalin barely caught the startled squeak that escaped Ori when his eyes landed on the Rison painting hanging on the wall.

“Oh, well, I really should be going now,” the red head said, Dwalin not even getting to open his mouth, before the bell above the door jingled, and Ori was gone.

~

Dwalin did not hear back from Ori after their slightly odd encounter, and even weirder departure. And, either way, it slowly faded from the tattoo artists mind.

“Hey, that Rison guy is having an art exhibit this weekend,” Kili called back into the shop, newspaper spread across the reception desk.

“Is he now?” Dwalin hummed, washing his hands after having sent off a rather happy client with a new nose piercing.

“Yeah. Says here he’ll be making an appearance, doing a Q and A, all that fancy jazz. You should totally go, Dwalin! Go meet the man of your artistic dreams!”

Dwalin snorted and promptly smacked Kili lightly in the back of the head, much to the protest of the young brunette. “Aye, perhaps I will.”

~

Dwalin shuffled about the art exhibit, feeling just a touch out of place amongst all the other exhibition goers. Where he was tall, thick, sturdy and covered in tattoos, most of the other patrons were tall, slender, and rather posh looking over all. There were a few scattered hipster looking art fiends, but it was relatively easy to tell that thanks to the artists’ popularity, this was more of a ‘go to be seen’ sort of event for many of those attending. He grumbled quietly under his breath, taking a sip of his wine.

“Not having fun?” a quiet voice interrupted his inward lament about having decided not to stay home and simply drink beer, eat pizza, and browse art online. He blinked in mild surprise when he turned to find the voice belonged to Ori.

“Well, I don’t particularly fancy being stared at like I’m a salivating beast by men pretending to be penguins and their bedazzled wives, so I would have to say, no, m’not having the greatest amount of fun,” Dwalin admitted, smirking at the genuine smile that spread across Ori’s face at his comment.

“I can’t say I blame you,” the slighter man chuckled, glancing at the painting Dwalin was standing in front of and frowning a little, before smiling once more at the other.

“What?” Dwalin immediately picked up on the glance of disapproval, looking between Ori and the piece on the wall, “What is it?”

“Oh, nothing,” Ori said, waving a dismissive hand, “Just surprised you’re admiring this particular piece, is all.”

Dwalin frowned, looking back to the painting before him. “Why? What’s wrong with it? I happen to find it very striking.”

Ori simply shrugged, swirling his glass of wine a little. “Nothing in particular. I just find it a bit boring, s’all.”

Dwalin sputtered a little, never having taken Ori for the type to be an art snob. Especially not in the realm of criticizing other artists’ work. “I find it a rather poignant piece, and I was thinking of buying it,” he stated stubbornly, his confusion over the whole matter only heightening at the faint look of pride and the light dusting of pink on Ori’s face at his comment.

“Do you?” the red head asked absently, blinking in surprise when a buzzing noise began to sound from his pocket. “Oh,” he pulled his phone out of his pocket, shooting Dwalin an apologetic look, “It seems I’m needed elsewhere. Enjoy the rest of the exhibit!”

Dwalin watched Ori scurry away in confusion.

An hour later when Mr.Rison was called up onto a small stage to answer questions on his works, however, Dwalin very nearly had a heart attack when Ori walked up onto the stage timidly and took the microphone.

~

“So, yer Mr.Rison. No wonder ye bolted out of my shop when ye saw yer painting on my wall.”

Ori chuckled, leaning against the wall between Dwalin and a potted plant, thankful for the cover, the hour he’d spent on stage having made him jittery and nervous. People had snapped a few dozen photos of him on their phones, he knew, and he had barely made it off the stage once his Q&A time was over.

“Yes, well,” the red head shrugged, letting out a shaky breath, “I wasn’t sure if you were just being nice to me after that point because you knew who I was. Though, I suppose that was silly, all things considered. Regardless.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his wine.

“Aye, t’was silly. I’m just sort of in awe. It also explains why ye were so criticizing about that one painting,” Dwalin admitted, huffing out a quiet laugh.

“Yeah. I got bored of that painting before I had even finished mixing paints for it, so you can understand my disdain for it,” the red head said with a lopsided smile, earning a startled laugh out of Dwalin. “I’m really horrible for that, really. It’s why I could never get a tattoo. I know I’d hate it in a week and wish I’d never gotten it. So, yeah. If you’re in awe by me, I’m in awe of you, so we’re even.”

Dwalin arched an eyebrow at Ori, a smirk on his face, causing the red head to blush and swat him on the arm. Dwalin chuckled, setting his empty wine glass on the tray of a passing waiter. “Aye. I can see how that’d be a deterrent.”

The two chatted amiably until Ori was finally spotted and dragged away for a few more questions, before Dwalin managed to rescue him, and the two escaped from the gallery before anyone could stop them.

“Would you like to go for coffee with me?”

“Aye. That’d be lovely.”


End file.
